


I’ll Make This Feel Like Home

by evelyndepp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humour, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 02:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelyndepp/pseuds/evelyndepp
Summary: Harry and Draco host an annual party to celebrate the end of summer. Throw in a bunch of relatives, kids growing up too quickly, an antique chair, and a crying father-in-law.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 133





	I’ll Make This Feel Like Home

The early evening sun is warm on his shoulders as Harry makes his way out of the summer kitchen, jugs of lemonade floating close behind him. He can see their friends, loose-limbed from the day’s heat and all the food they’ve consumed throughout the day, mingling with each other around the two huge tables in the middle of the garden. Further away, in the field behind the house, he just about makes out the shapes of a few familiar little figures, running around with no care in the world. 

The sight makes Harry smile.

They try to do this every year - a farewell to summer, as well as a celebration of a new school year, - now that many of their children are old enough to go to Hogwarts. 

They usually alternate between three households: Potters, Weasley-Grangers, and Weasleys (the Fleur and Bill kind). Fleur, lamenting the fact that they rarely got together anymore, threw the first brunch five years ago, a day before Victoire boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. The newly born tradition was passed onto Ron the next year, and Harry the year after that, escalating into lazing around together for a whole day - with food and drinks and activities for the kids.

And now there they are, on the 2nd of September, gathered together in the Potter gardens in Gloucestershire. The usual date was pushed back two days due to the bad weather, and the older kids were gutted to be missing _the farewell party. _But, as Hermione wisely reasoned, ”_sometimes you’ve got to celebrate your children’s future academic accolades without the said children in sight”. _Which was all too true, in Harry’s opinion. 

“Ok, alright, let’s get seated, i can spot something on the horizon!”, the voice of George Weasley announces for Merlin knows which time this evening, as he makes a show of dramatically gazing at the sky.

Someone begins to protest, but sure enough, this time even Harry can spot a tiny dark dot slowly making its way towards the house, heading from the north. 

Harry levitates the lemonade onto the tables, mentally checking with himself. He feels calm, which isn’t surprising. He knows his oldest child well enough to predict how the next half an hour or so are gonna go.

“I’m buzzing here, mate, proper buzzing!”, exclaims Ron from where he’s rocking back and forth across from Harry.

“You will be buzzing from the floor if you don’t stop rocking in that chair”, Harry warns.

“C’mon, i’ll fix it if i end up breaking it”, Ron waves him away as he cranes his neck to look at the dot in the sky, already getting closer.

“I’d think twice about that, if i were you. This chair is probably as old as Hogwarts. Think of what Draco will do to you if you as much as scratch it”.

Ron gulps. Everyone knows how Draco feels about his antique furniture - which is still a mystery to Harry as to WHY he doesn’t just lock it all away and let them use normal, reasonably cheap chairs for when guests come over. 

Ron’s eyes have gone a bit panicky, and he throws himself a few seats to his right, onto a pretty regular looking bench. Harry refrains from telling him that the said bench is also at least three centuries old. At least Ron won’t be able to rock in it, he reasons.

“Wise move, Ronald, wise move”, drawls a voice behind Harry, and he smiles when gentle hands land on his shoulders for a moment.

Draco lowers himself onto the now Ron-free chair, puts a freshly loaded plate of pastries in front of himself, and drags Harry into his lap. Harry nuzzles his temple.

“Is that an actual Hogwarts owl i’m seeing?”

“Looks like it, yeah. Not long now”.

They sit in comfortable silence, the three of them, as George uses a Sonorus to shout at everyone to gather around the tables. Fleur and Narcissa hurry the kids along from where they spent the last few hours putting up a tent in the field. Hermione, Andromeda, and Arthur follow Angelina and Darien, Percy’s husband, from where they’ve been keeping cool in the shade. The seats slowly fill up with more and more people, with Bill and Lucius the last ones to arrive. Bill says something into Lucius’ ear before lowering himself down beside Fleur, and Lucius actually snorts, mildly horrified at having drawn attention to himself the very next second. Harry catches his eye and winks. Lucius attempts a dignified version of an eye-roll, fails, and reaches for a peach puff pastry. Narcissa returns Harry’s wink for him.

When everyone is finally settled, all eyes at the table are drawn to a large barn owl, who has managed to make a successful landing at a Potter residence, and is now nibbling on George’s ear from where she’s perched on his shoulder. 

  
“Alright-y, then! Let’s get it started, lads!”, exclaims George, petting the top of the owl’s head. “May i have the letters, ma’am?”

The owl hoots, clearly delighted, and lets George take the three brown envelopes she was trusted to deliver. Somehow, Professor McGonagall seems to have known that all three sets of parents would be at the Potters’ today. Harry isn’t even remotely surprised.

  
“The rules are simple: each parent tries to predict the house their child was sorted into yesterday. The winner gets to dangle the victory into their partner’s face for the rest of their married life. Who wants to go first?”

“Us!” Hermione, a respectable Ministry official, flings her hand in the air with the kind of speed a teenage Hermione would be envious of. Ron, expression mildly panicked, just nods.

“Splendid!” With a flick of a wand, George goes to write _HERMIONE_ and _RON_ in the air in glowing letters. “Hermione, you go first!”

Hermione breathes in and out, and raises her own wand. A glowing _Ravenclaw_ appears below her name.

Various Weasleys go “_oooooh_” at different volumes. “The _betrayal_!”, dramatically announces Charlie, and gets hit across the head by Molly. 

  
Hermione rolls her eyes. “This is just a likely option. Rosie would choose for herself, of course”.

“She sure would!”, says Ron, nodding, “Gryffindor it is!”

  
Draco huffs an exasperated sigh into Harry’s temple. Harry grins.

“Well, then, let’s get it rolling, shall we?”

One of the three letters floats forward. George taps it with his wand - one, two, three times. Harry sneaks a look at Ron, who seems to have gone almost green with anxiety.

The letter unfurls itself, and a familiar voice begins to recite:

_“Dear Mr and Mrs Granger-Weasley, it is my pleasure to inform you that your daughter, Rose Granger-Weasley, was sorted into the house of Gryffindor yesterday evening._

_ All the first year students enjoyed the welcoming feast and were safely escorted into their respective common rooms, where the Head students introduced them to their dorms._

_For all the questions that you might have going forward, please, do not hesitate to contact me directly._

_Yours respectfully,_

_Professor Neville Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor.”_

As soon as Neville’s voice dies down, the cheers ensue.

“That’s my baby!” Ron is yelling while simultaneously trying to press repeated kisses all over Hermione’s face. Hermione is smiling and shaking her head, exasperated and happy in equal measure.

Draco sniggers into Harry’s ear: “I cannot _wait_ to see his face when Hugo ends up as a Hufflepuff”. Harry bites his ear in response.

The next “sorting” goes with less success for either parents, with Fleur placing her middle child in Slytherin, and Bill in Gryffindor. Louis ends up being a Hufflepuff. The crowd is cheering again, with Molly and Arthur loudly proclaiming that it is them who have won, “having guessed it all along”.

“Draco!”, bellows George eventually, snapping Harry out of his musings, “get your hands from under Harry’s shirt where we can see them, and place your bet!”

Cheeks gone slightly pink, Draco keeps his hands where they are, silently raising one imperious eyebrow. George holds his gaze for a few seconds before snorting and announcing “Slytherin!”, as he writes the word under Draco’s name in the air. 

“Oh boy, another classic Slytherin/Gryffindor rivalry”, laughs Bill, “this should be interesting!”

“Is that so?” Draco smiles and catches Harry’s eye. “Go on then, Potter, write it down”.

Harry smiles at him, and flicks his wrist. 

The garden falls silent. 

The first to break the silence is, of course, Ron’s disbelieving shriek of _”__MATE!!”_, which seems to do it just about right. 

Everyone laughs, with George concluding that _of course THOSE two would be in sync._

_Slytherin_ shines bold and bright under Harry’s name.

Finally, the third letter begins to recite:

_“Dear Mr and Mr Potter, it is my pleasure to inform you that your daughter, Iris Euphemia Potter, was sorted into the House of Slytherin yesterday evening._

_All the first year students enjoyed the welcoming feast and were safely escorted into their respective common rooms, where the Head students introduced them to their dorms._

_For all the questions that you might have going forward, please, do not hesitate to contact me directly._

_Yours respectfully,_

_ Professor Emilia Purvis, Head of Slytherin.”_

The cheers and whooping sounds erupt for the third time. Ron is wagging his finger into Harry and Draco’s direction, eyes damp from undeniable pride for his goddaughter. Narcissa and Andromeda uncork their third shared bottle of Firewhisky. Harry thinks _oh screw it_ and french-kisses Draco in front of his - almost - entire family, which earns them another round of whooping and a fair share of whistles.

From where he and Draco are seated, Harry can spy the shaking back of his father-in-law, as Lucius is wrecked by uncontrollable sobs of joy. Everyone around him is politely acting oblivious. Narcissa pats him on the head and leaves him be. Harry grins into his beer.

_ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~_

The sun has now completely set, and the garden is illuminated by dozens of tiny sparkly balls of light, courtesy of Hermione and Andromeda. Harry is still sitting in his husband’s lap, which isn’t really that comfortable for both of them, but Draco hasn’t complained once, so Harry decides to count his blessings. 

Arthur is telling a fresh Ministry jape, sending everyone into fits of laughter. Harry hasn’t been listening, not really, since his attention, once shifted onto his husband, tends to remain there. Draco is laughing along with everyone, face bright and glowing in the sparkly lights, one arm curled steadily around Harry’s waist. There’s no other place Harry’d rather be than right here.

His back is suddenly being tapped a couple of times, and before he’s got time to turn around, a small body has rounded in on them and is swiftly climbing into Harry’s lap.

Draco squeaks under the shared weight of both his husband and their son.

“James Regulus Potter, if this chair breaks under the three of us, your papa will be very very cross”.

Draco grunts in affirmation and tries to accommodate this new sitting arrangement. 

“I’ll sit quietly, then”, is Jaime’s response, which makes his fathers snort. A nine year old’s logic is a solid thing.

“Are you tired enough for the day, love? Shall we start wrapping up soon?”

“We can’t, dad, Orion hasn’t arrived yet!”.

Orion, a snowy owl, was proudly picked by Iris in the Diagon Alley as a first year present from her godparents. Harry remembers Pansy suggesting a kneazle, instead, and Ron’s face immediately turning a variety of different shades, much to Parkinson’s delight. In the end, Orion came home with them. An instantly beloved friend, he has accompanied Iris for her first year at Hogwarts.

“I don’t think we should be waiting for him today, baby. Your sister has had two very busy days. She will write to us when she’s settled, alright?”

Jaime nods, looking subdued. Draco carefully lifts his chin back up. “You’re missing her already, aren’t you?”

  
A nod.

“We miss her too”, says Harry, rubbing his back, “but we know she’s happy to be in Slytherin, making new friends, eager to start her studies. You will join her soon enough, don’t worry”.

“Do i have to be in Slytherin as well?”, the boy asks suddenly, which is random enough to make Harry pause. 

Draco starts gently running his fingers through Jaime’s mess of wild blonde hair. “You can be wherever you want, you know that”, he says patiently, “haven’t we discussed it before, love?”

Jaime lowers his head down onto Harry’s chest, face hidden from everyone but his fathers. “But what if i don’t know what i want? Iris said she would ask the Sorting Hat to put her in Slytherin. What if i don’t want to choose?”. 

He sounds anxious and so small, still, that Harry wishes he could keep him home with them forever, always their little boy, safe from the world’s big expectations.

“Then the Sorting Hat will make the best possible choice for you”, he makes himself say instead, “and you will make so many great friends, inside and outside of the house you will be sorted into. Your sister will always be there for you, wherever you are, and Hugo will still be your best friend”.

“Sometimes, letting things unfold naturally, as they do, is the best way”, Draco adds, kissing the top of his son’s head, “no one will think less of you for it. Your dad and i definitely won’t”. 

Harry is suddenly fiercely grateful for him. Well, not so suddenly, he feels grateful pretty much every day, and right now is no exception. This raw feeling of_ I’M SO SO LUCKY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH_ hits him square in the gut, and Harry has to take a deep breath to will it to behave. He catches and holds Draco’s gaze over their son’s head, and knows that he’s been understood.

Jaime, in a true nine-year-old’s fashion, switches between moods with the speed of the newest Firebolt. “Ok!” is all his fathers get, and then two loud smacking kisses on the cheeks, and then he’s gone, making his way through the tables and into the field, where Hugo and Roxanne are setting up some new Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’ fireworks with Ron and George. 

Draco exhales a shaking breath beside him, and when Harry turns his head to look at him, his husband’s eyes are damp, tears gathering in the corners of his lovely grey eyes. The same eyes their daughter looks at them with. Harry knows that Draco’s heart feels too big for his chest every time Jaime looks at him, too, Harry’s familiar features reflected in the face of their child. 

Harry never knew his heart could feel so full.

“I can _hear_ you being a sap in your head, Potter, quit it”, grumbles Draco, lips tugging into a smile against his better judgement. 

“So what you’re telling me is that you _won’t _cry into my shoulder tonight in bed about how much our kids have grown and how much you want to freeze the time, huh?”

Draco huffs and flicks him on the nose. “Slander and lies. I have never been known to do anything like that, ever, in my life”.

“We’ll see”.

“There’s nothing to see, and you’ll feel like a complete fool when i calmly get into bed tonight and gracefully fall asleep”.

“Sure”.

“Wanna bet, Potter?”

“You’re on, _Potter_”.

All was well.


End file.
